


The Goat Shed

by Arithanas



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Family Fluff, Gen, Slice of Life, animal birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Lagertha and Ragnar had raised the farm from the dirt, and they would do it again, if need be.





	The Goat Shed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [diademata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diademata/gifts).



> Many thanks to f.'s contributions to this fic as beta reader.

Ragnar Lothbrok yawned in the dark before pushing the door open. Early autumn air assaulted his face and filled his body with a chill. He looked inside his home and at his kids, covered and safe. Lagertha was just a lock of golden hair under the fabrics and the fur.  He closed the door to keep the biting wind outside.

Winter would be upon them soon and he farm was in need of hard work — especially the animal sheds. Summer had been full of activity, as usual, and he had slacked enough after the raid. Now that the rain had finally stopped, Ragnar had run out of excuses to fix and spruce the goat shed. The logs waited for his care. It wasn’t the first time he had to do woodwork. Lagertha and he had raised the farm from the dirt, and they would do it again, if need be.

The logs split without trouble. Wedges sped up the work, and that’s something Ragnar would thank Floki for the next time they shared a drink. Dragging the boards was another kind of work, but by the time he started moving them, Bjorn joined him and carried a bit of weight between the patches of mud.

“This won’t be long,” Bjorn told his father, lifting the muddied end.

Ragnar smiled. The boy was doing his part in building his strength. His fatherly pride liked the way Bjorn bit his lip and fixed his eyes as if he were doing something really important. They placed the board by the fence and started wrestling with the bow saw.

“I’ll take it from your hands,” Bjorn promised, his foot firmly planted against the board.

“I want to see you do it.” Ragnar was actively resisting. Surprised and amused because his son was forcing his arms to let the tool go.

The wood helped the boy to complete the first run and Ragnar took a moment to enjoy his wide, proud smile. Bjorn would make a good warrior someday. _But not too soon, All-father_ , Ragnar thought. It felt like a plea. With a jerk, Ragnar returned the tool to its initial position.

“Again!” Bjorn demanded, as if work was a game for him to play. It was better that way.

Between runs, Ragnar noticed Lagertha starting her day. She had the hurried step of a woman with a purpose. Ragnar was sure he would love that brisk step to the end of his days. Sawdust in his eyes couldn’t hinder his delight at the way Lagertha bent to pick up a wet ball of hay to put around the fire.

“It’s your turn!” Bjorn called out, as if Ragnar had forgotten how a saw worked.

Ragnar pulled the tool, dragging it slowly with his eyes trained to Lagertha’s figure. Had it really been ten years since they joined their fates?

Gyda came to them with bread and drinks, sitting on the fence to look at them. Her eyes following the saw as it went back and forth. She smiled, and the world was brilliant and new with her childish pleasure. The tip of her tongue danced over her pink lips, as it often did when her interest was alight like a bonfire in the middle of the night. Ragnar smiled at her and petted her hair before pulling the saw again.

“You need to eat,” Gyda told them. Her voice was quivering because of the cold.

“In a moment,” Ragnar said, as he tried to take the saw which Bjorn held tight in his hands. “Let go!”

Bjorn complied, almost regretful. Ragnar made a mental notice to let him use the hammer, the next time. If the boy was brimming with energy, Ragnar would do him a favor in offering him a worthwhile outlet. Ragnar faced the crude board, aimed at it mentally and delivered a kick. The dry snap of the wood was loud, and the smile of the kids widened.

The job finished, Ragnar took the rough vest from his back and wrapped it around Gyda. The girl smiled as the warm of Ragnar’s body enveloped her. Ragnar touched Gyda’s red and shiny nose with the tip of his finger and she smiled. Gyda looked her father in the eye and Ragnar felt a long shiver running through his back. Absentmindedly, Ragnar wondered if that’s the way the gods feel when a supplicant turns their prayers to them.

Bjorn took the bread from his sister’s hand and took a great bite. The boy was hungry half the time and boisterous the rest of it. Maybe, this would be his last winter as a boy. Maybe, it was time to take him to Kattegat and formally make a man of him… The thought saddened Ragnar.

“Father?” Gyda offered a piece of cheese with both hands. Concern was darkening her eyes, and Ragnar felt guilty as if he’d been caught being a coward.

“Thank you.”

Gyda smiled, shook her head and the world fell into place again.

“It looks like hard work,” Gyda commented while they both eat their share.

“Not so much.” Bjorn shrugged, complete disinterested in anything but the bread in his hands.

“The goats will be grateful,” Ragnar commented between bites. “They don’t like to have their kids in the cold and we must keep the hay dry for them.”

“Would you let me help with the kids this year?” Gyda asked. She has been asking for it all year long.

Ragnar let his eyes wander over the crumbling wall of their goat shed. His mind soared to another winter when the goat moaned in distress. The night when he witnessed Lagertha pull a stubborn beast from its mother’s womb with her bare hands.

His wife was a goddess that night. A sublime being full of the eternal knowledge of Life. Ragnar was enthralled by the sound of her breath filling his humble goat shed. The way she took her hair from her brow, with bloodied hands, commanded attention. Lagertha twisted the kid inside its mother with hands that were both tender and strong. The goat looked at his wife with the same trusting, marveled way Gyda looked at him. The goat bleated loudly enough to cover Ragnar’s gasp when the kid was brought into this world. Lagertha face was radiant when she put the trembling creature to her chest. There was no pride in her, just the serenity of one who knows the mysteries of birth.

She was powerful and wise and so remarkably adept to bring life into this world that they ended the night rolling around in the hay, their flesh trembling with cold and desire, and mist rising from their skin as their naked bodies clashed in unison. Their first year together was the one year when the farm got neglected to a shameful degree.

“Maybe next year,” Ragnar muttered, eye looking for Lagertha for her was the choice.  She wasn’t in sight, and his heart thumped in his chest. _It’s too soon, All-father_ , he thought. “Now, let us finish this wall.”

Gyda and Bjorn climbed down the fence and ran to the shed with small cries of anticipation. Ragnar looked at them with equal mixture of sadness and pride.

They were growing up so fast.

 


End file.
